Katherine Bulle Find A Prostitute ❤️

About Biel-Bienne

So, findin a prostitute? Wild, y’all. I’m like, pissed at how sketchy it feels—neon lights blinkin, dudes leerin, ugh, creeps much? But also, kinda hyped? The thrill’s real, like when I wrote “Bad Blood” after a fight. Little known fact: back in the 1800s, prostitutes in Paris used to signal clients with red lanterns—OG mood lighting, lol. Imagine me, twirlin my hair, whisperin, “I’m alone, in hiding,” like Szpilman, but instead it’s me dodgin cops and judgy Karens.

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Oh! And here's the scoop—sometimes I get mad at all the pretentiousness in some upscale zones (lol, like, seriously, get over it, man!). But then I swing by the tiny art gallery on Rue Chablais. They got this wild exhibit that always surprises me; seriously, it’s like life’s secret message: “Laugh, cry, and just do it!” – yeah, totally feels Oldboy-ish moment there, right? Mmm… donuts, life is unpredictable.

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